Chapter 8: A new threat

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Chapter 8: A new threat

In the shadowy depths of the town—where even whispers dared not linger—stood a desolate corner scarred by time and violence. Broken buildings, remnants of battles long forgotten, and the air hung heavy with despair. Amid the ruins, a figure moved with predatory grace, his presence as silent as the grave. Dressed in black from head to toe, besides for his shirt, soaked with the blood of his victims. His mask bore streaks of red tear-shaped marks for every life he had claimed. On his back, a scythe rested, its black-and-gold blade radiating a sinister, pulsating aura of blood-red light. In his hands, he carried a sniper rifle and a handgun, tools of his trade. The man halted before an abandoned warehouse, its shattered windows and sagging walls. Without hesitation, he stepped into the gloom.

“I did the deed. Now, where’s my money?” His voice was low, a gravelly echo.

A second man emerged from the shadows, his face half-lit by the glow of a single flickering bulb. “Here,” he said, handing over a bundle of cash. “Five thousand dollars,” he said.

The first man grabbed the money, and turned around, ready to leave.

“Wait,” the second man called out. “Before you go… I have another target for you. One more kill. I’ll triple the payment if you do it.”

The assassin tilted his head, the red aura of his scythe flaring slightly, as if reacting to the tension in the room. “Who?” he asked.

“They go by the name Hazel,” the second man said, his words bold. “Get rid of her… and the money is yours.”

For a moment, the assassin said nothing, his mask making him unreadable. Then, with deliberate steps, he moved closer, the light catching the edge of his scythe as it hummed faintly.

“Hazel…the town would go mad,” he repeated, a quiet murmur, yet it echoed in the vast emptiness of the warehouse.

The assassin then walked back into the darkness, the silence loud.

*Switch back to Hazel*

Hazel walked into the same menacing building, this time with more guards and security. She hazily walked down the halls of the building, stopping at a door with a sign saying “Top secret”. She opened the door and entered the room, seeing Henry and a big board with all the victims and clues they found.

“So, Henry, did you find any progress? The murders can’t keep happening like this,” said Hazel handing Henry a coffee.

“Yes, I did, this will be very important for you. The murderer seems to be killing people important to this town. They seem to be saving the most important person for last.” Henry said tensefully, and with concern. “It’s…YOU” said Henry pointing at Hazel.

“What?! Is that why the security has increased greatly?” said Hazel.

“Yes, I can’t lose you, you are the last and most important person in this town. And my first friend, so I’m not gonna let you die that easily,” replied Henry.

“Thanks! But, if I do die, at least you were my friend,” Hazel said optimistically.

“Detective Henry, we managed to catch some footage of a guy that’s fully armed around the proximity of Hazel’s house. We fear that he is the murderer and Hazel is his next victim,” said a guard entering the room.

“Wait I’ll be back, give me a moment,” Hazel said, rushing out of the room.

As she was walking down the hallways of the building, she bumped into the mayor of the town.

“Sorry Mr. Jaakobah! I’m just in a rush that’s all,” said Hazel.

“It’s fine, after all, I just got elected as mayor a week ago!” said Jaakobah.

“Okay that's great! But I have to go,” said Hazel, now running out the building.

“Wow, not even gonna thank me, how selfish,” whispered Jaakobah to himself.

Hazel got out of the building and ran towards her house as fast as she could. After a whole ten minutes of constantly running, Hazel reached her house. The door was opened, leaving Hazel in despair. She quickly ran into the house hoping the “murderer” didn’t get to her before Hazel could. Hazel searched endlessly around the house to find her. Hazel then heard a noise, she followed the noise all the way to an upstairs room. She looked under a bed and found a little girl.

“There you are Myra, I was looking everywhere for you!” Hazel said angrily, but with a sigh of relief.

“Oh, hi big sis! Before you came here, a very scary man broke open the door. So I went under the bed and hid inside a blanket.” said Myra.

“Good thing you did, but anyways, get out under the bed and follow me quickly!” Hazel said worryingly.

“Why???” questioned Myra.

“No time to explain, hurry up!” said Hazel.

Hazel picked up Myra and ran quickly right back to the secured building. She then brung Myra to Henry.

“Detective Henry!” Myra said running to give him a hug.

“Hey Myra,” said Henry as he gave her a hug.

“So that’s what you were going to get,” said Henry.

“Yeah, lucky the assassin didn’t get to her before I did,” replied Hazel.

“I think I should get Myra to sleep now, it's late, you should get some sleep too Henry. You’ve been working 24/7 trying to figure this out. Everyone deserves a break,” Hazel said, leading Myra to her room.

After Hazel had put Myra to sleep, she got in her temporary room for the time being. She laid down on her bed, Hazel’s mind raced, “Am I next?” “How can I prevent this?” “Am I this important to the town?” “I hope Myra and Henry are okay…” “Who is this murderer-?...” The thoughts come and go as Hazel searches hopelessly for an answer. Trying to find a way she can solve this. A way to end this without any more suffering or deaths. A solution–to fix it all… The next day arrived as Hazel laid on her bed, full of dread and questions. Her door opened, it turned out to be Myra.

“Hi big sis! Guess what? Henry finally went and slept!” said Myra.

“Really? I thought he would ignore me and continue solving who it is,” replied Hazel getting out of bed.

“Go brush your teeth, I need to take you to your babysitters, I will have a long day today,” said Hazel.

“I hate the babysitters! I can take care of myself!” yelled Myra angrily.

“I know, but mom and dad aren’t here anymore, so I will need you to listen to me and go to the babysitters and be nice,” said Hazel.

“Ugh, okay fine…” said Myra.

“You and Henry are the most important people to me, so I would be sad if anything happened to you and Henry,” said Hazel, bringing Myra to the babysitters.

After Hazel dropped Myra at the babysitter’s house with the other kids, she got to work.

“Hey Hazel! Can you pick up that apple for me? I’m too old for this,” said an old man.

“Sure, here you go!” replied Hazel, giving him the apple.

Hazel then went to the main entrance of the town, seeing a group of people looking totally lost. She went to introduce herself.

“Hey guys, are you new to this town? You look confused,” said Hazel.

“Uhh, yes we are,” said the strangers.

“New visitors! I am happy to help you guys, my name is Hazel, the hostess of this town. Let me show you around,” Hazel said, guiding the way.

After showing them around the town for 3 hours, Hazel made a hotel book for them and headed her way. On her way to get Myra from the babysitters, Hazel bumped into Henry halfway through.

“Hazel, I’ve been looking for you, there seems to be another death. The strange thing about it is that the person who was killed was ‘unimportant’. Their name was Hazel, so the murderer must’ve mistaken that Hazel to be you. Just to make sure if that murderer comes back, these specially trained bodyguards will protect you,” said Henry.

“I don’t need this– uhh never mind I do. Thanks for the protection!” said Hazel.

*Switch to the Assassin*

The assassin darted through the same ruins, his boots crunching over shattered glass and debris. The warehouse loomed ahead, more destroyed than before. Its roof lent to the right, and its walls bore fresh cracks, as if the place itself had been struggling to stand. Inside, the silence was loud, broken only by the faint dripping of water. And there he was; the same man, standing in the center of the warehouse, bathed in the dim light of a single bulb that flickered constantly. He was motionless, unnervingly still, as if he had been waiting there for an eternity.

“I killed him,” the assassin said, his voice cutting through the silence.

The man tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Him?” he said, his tone sharp and skeptical. “I don’t remember Hazel being a man.”

The assassin’s hand tightened. “You didn’t give me any pictures of ‘Hazel,’” he replied, his irritation barely restrained.

The man stepped forward. “Here it is,” he said, pulling a photograph from his coat and thrusting it toward the assassin. His voice grew darker, laced with venom. “Take a good look at it.”

The assassin snatched the photograph and glanced at it. For a moment, he was silent. “Hmph. Looks like my job isn’t done yet.”

The man’s lips curled into a sinister smirk. “I knew it,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, deep and menacing.

The assassin turned on his heel, the red glow of his scythe casting eerie patterns on the walls. “I’ll be back by midnight. Expect me then.”

But just as he reached the door, the man’s voice rang out, cutting through the air like a razor. “Your brother would’ve finished this already.”

The words were a dagger to the assassin’s chest. He froze, his hand tightening around the handle of his scythe. Slowly, he turned, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. “Don’t you dare talk about my brother.”

The man’s smirk widened into a cruel grin. “What’s the matter? Hit a nerve?”

The assassin moved before he could think, a blur of fury and anger. In one swift motion, his scythe sliced through the air, stopping a centimeter away from the man’s neck. The scythe shined brightly, its red aura flaring in response to his anger.

“What are you going to do?” the man taunted, his voice steady, unshaken. “Kill me? You wouldn’t dare.”

The assassin’s grip tightened, his rage boiling over. He swung his scythe with lethal precision, severing the man’s head in a single, fluid motion. For a moment, there was silence. But when the assassin looked up. The man’s head was still intact, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

“Luckily for me,” the man said, his voice calm but mocking, “This is just a holographic projection. Did you really think I’d meet you here in person?” His tone hardened, becoming cold and commanding. “Don’t try that again. You need my money, after all.”

The assassin’s scythe trembled in his hand, his anger barely contained. But as the man’s image flickered and disappeared, he was left standing alone in the broken warehouse, the weight of his failure pressing down on him like a curse. After a long while of the assassin just standing there, he left the warehouse.

*switch to Hazel*

The night was darker than usual. The wind carried a ghostly whisper through the trees, rustling the leaves. Hazel arrived at the secured building with Myra, her body aching from exhaustion. She moved on autopilot; feeding Myra, tucking her into bed, and murmuring a soft goodnight before stumbling towards the coffee machine.

Unbeknownst to her, death was watching.

Perched on a tree branch outside, the assassin remained still, his sharp eyes calculating every movement below. He had been waiting for the perfect moment, piecing together his masterpiece. The guards patrolled in steady patterns, some scanning the area with fierce vigilance, others weary from long shifts. One, in particular, stood behind the building, leaning against the wall, eyes drooping… Perfect…

The assassin dropped soundlessly from the tree, his dark attire merging with the shadows. The howling wind overshadowed the sound of his footsteps. His scythe, wrapped in black cloth, pulsed faintly beneath the wrapping. A red glow, like a heartbeat.

With deadly precision, he slipped behind the drowsy guard. The moment the man closed his eyes, it took one strike. The guard crumpled to the ground without a sound. The assassin didn’t even pause to watch him fall. He was already scaling the six-story wall, his fingers gripping onto the smallest cracks in the wall.

*Inside the Secured Building*

Detective Henry sat at his desk, eyes scanning the case files once again. A deep unease settled in his gut. The pattern had changed.

"The attacks used to be spaced out. A week, sometimes two. But this time, just a day apart. That means…"

He inhaled sharply. "They’re accelerating. And that means Hazel is in real danger."

He stood abruptly. That’s when he heard it.

The sirens. Blaring.

*The Rooftop*

The assassin landed gracefully on the roof; only to find himself staring down the barrels of two loaded rifles.

“Hands where I can see them!” a guard barked.

The assassin complied, raising them ever so slightly.

Then, a second guard squinted. “What’s that in your hand? Drop it. Now.”

A pause.

“Okay,” the assassin murmured. He let the object slip from his fingers.

The moment it hit the ground, BOOM!

Thick, choking smoke exploded across the rooftop. Instinct took over. The guards opened fire, their bullets vanishing into the swirling smoke. When the smoke began to clear, one of the guards swallowed hard.

The other was on the ground. Unconscious. The remaining guard spun around wildly. Where?

He never got his answer.

The guard then felt a sharp pain—an elbow driving into his shoulder. The guard dropped as the assassin went Inside the Building. The assassin moved like a cheetah, gliding through the corridors. He activated his skill. Names flickered before his eyes, hiding inside each door. Rapunzel… Gigachad… NutMaster5000…

He paused. Hazel.

With one swift swipe of his scythe, the door split in two. Inside, Hazel and Henry turned, their faces frozen in fear. Henry quickly slammed his hand against the emergency lever. THUNK. Three-foot-wide steel doors slammed down, sealing them off.

“H-Hazel, it’s okay. It’s okay! We’re safe now,” Henry stammered, trying to calm both himself and her.

Then—BANG! The steel Buckled. BANG! BANG!

The assassin was breaking through…

Henry grabbed a handgun and aimed. His fingers trembled, but his resolve was solid. Then—CRASH. The door busted open.

Henry fired. One shot hit the assassin’s left arm. Another barely missed his head. It wasn’t enough… Before Henry could fire again, the assassin was on him. A brutal grip seized Henry’s wrist, twisting it until the gun clattered to the floor. A second later, Henry was slammed into the ground, his breath ripped from his lungs.

“Almost got me there,” the assassin snarled, his voice dripping with anger. He bent down, eyes locking onto Hazel.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said. His voice darkened. “Too bad you’ll look like Swiss cheese soon.”

He raised the handgun and aimed at Hazel.

“STOP RIGHT THERE!”

A dozen guards charged in, guns raised.

The assassin sighed. “Tch. Looks like I must go.”

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled out another smoke grenade. But this time. BANG! A single shot rang out.

Hazel recoiled. Her body jolted as pain tore through her chest. Blood spread across her shirt and stained the floor. She collapsed…

“NO!”

Henry scrambled toward her, pressing down on the wound, his hands trembling.

“GET EVERY DOCTOR HERE! NOW!” he screamed.

Hazel’s breaths were shallow. But heavy.